I was often the last to leave, offering to “help clean up,” when everyone else was walking out the door. I liked being doted on by Kim and her sister. Kim was always positioning herself next to me during reruns, and snuggling closer than anyone had before. I had no idea what to do, and I didn’t have an older brother, I just knew I liked the smoothness and the fullness of Kim Olson.
The night it happened was a Tuesday, when her sister worked the closing shift at Rudolph’s BBQ as a bartender, until 2:00 AM, sometimes later. Not as many people came over that night to smoke pot and watch The Honeymooners— especially Frankie Vale didn’t come; I know this because he had balls for Kim and was always trying to break apart the bond we were forming. No one went out for cookies, everyone left after The Honeymooners, and there was no chicken carcass to clean.
I felt like I was being mugged. All of a sudden Kim went from being next to me to being on top of me: wham. And then we were making out. And then she was feeling me. And then I was feeling her. Her breasts fell out of her bra when she helped me undo it. She whimpered when I reached down her pants. And then she was unhooking my belt. And then she put me inside her. My socks were still on. And then I came. And then she looked at me, smiled halfway, got us dressed, and we went to the improv comedy show that happened every night at midnight at Dudley Riggs’ Comedy Club. I knew we’d run into a few friends there.